


Light in the Storm

by wordsinbetween



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Foreplay, M/M, Pet Adoption, implicit sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsinbetween/pseuds/wordsinbetween
Summary: The snow is already sticking to the sidewalks, gathering on the windshields of the cars parked out front. Eddie pushes the snow off his shoulders and takes off his beanie, slapping it against his thigh with a frown. He shoves the hat in his coat pocket and smiles at the receptionist.“Hi!” She says, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Did you two have an appointment, or are you just having a look around?”“Just takin’ a peek,” Richie says, untucking his scarf. “The dogs are that way?”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 216





	Light in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kcc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcc/gifts).



> Commission for my dear friend Kendall :) 
> 
> I'm accidentally giving myself the reputation as "the guy who can't help but give Richie and Eddie a pet." Does the clown exist in this universe? Not sure. It doesn't matter in the slightest. The foreplay/sex is very implicit and not graphic. This is very domestic and fluffy.

Eddie wakes up to the feeling of Richie’s hand slipping under the edge of his shirt, fingers cold to the touch as he tucks his hand between Eddie’s belly and the mattress. He feels Richie curl tighter around his back, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder blade. Eddie tugs the comforter up until it’s curled up under his chin. His nose feels cold; he should know better than to turn the heat down so low in the middle of March.

He glances at the clock on the bedside table, squinting in the dim light. It’s past nine, but the storm must have moved across Lake Michigan faster than anticipated. The chill is seeping in through the large window next to Richie’s bed– next to  _ their  _ bed, Eddie thinks to himself. He sighs and leans back against Richie, smiling when he mumbles softly in his sleep, the fog of his breath warm through Eddie’s shirt.

Careful not to jostle them, Eddie reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He checks the storm’s progress – 40 degrees and dropping, rain mixed with snow, turning to heavy snowfall by nightfall – and then opens up Richie’s messages from yesterday.

He rolls his eyes and clicks the first link.

Roxie. Age: 8-10. Breed: Australian Shepherd mix. Not recommended for a house with other dogs. Cats are okay. “This girl’s got a lot of energy!” The pictures are cute, with her one blue eye and one brown, grey fur on her back speckled with black spots.

His eyes dart back to  _ a lot of energy!  _ and gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. He backs out and clicks the next link.

Muffin. (Eddie rolls his eyes.) Age: 6-7. Breed: Terrier mix. Not recommended for a house with cats or children. He scrolls through the pictures, smiling at one where he’s rolled over on his back in a big fluffy pet bed, toy rope in his jaws. “Requires special diet for his kidney.” Eddie’s brow furrows in concentration and he mentally marks down Muffin as a maybe.

Bonnie. Age: 9-10. Breed: Schipperke mix. “Bonnie’s an old girl looking for a new home! Given up by her owner's family due to her owner moving into a nursing home. She’s a cuddly, easy-going lady!” Eddie flips through her pictures and laughs at the close-up of her face, her chin pressed against someone’s lap, her big brown eyes looking up at the camera. Her muzzle is grey and white, freckling her pure black coat.

Eddie brings up the search engine and types in  _ Schipperke life expectancy. _ Google says 13-15 years. Good with kids and other pets. He looks back at her pictures before opening up a new note on his phone.  _ Look up senior dog care, _ he types.  _ She’s a mixed breed so she could live longer. Ask shelter how long Bonnie’s been there. Don’t older dogs get adopted less often? _

Richie stretches against him, his right leg sliding out from between Eddie’s legs, exhaling loudly against his back before his breaths even out again. Eddie rubs the arm wrapped around his waist through the blanket before going back to his quest.

_ How about this one? :)  _ is the text attached to the next link.

Kimchi. Age: 5-6. Breed: Russian Blue; short-hair. Good with other pets. “Loves to sit on your lap while you read, or the corner of your desk while you work!” Eddie looks at the grey cat with her bright blue eyes and thinks about a cat curled up against his feet, bathing in the sunlight as it moves across the floor of the apartment like clockwork. Maybe a cat would be best. He’s never had a dog before, and the responsibilities stress him out if he thinks about them for too long. He’s doing better, he is– his new job is much less stressful, and Chicago is infinitesimally calmer than New York as far as the actual city goes. But the thought of the dog needing to go out every morning and every night, and what about lunch? Will he need to come home during lunch when Richie is on tour? What if she barks and bothers the neighbors, what if–

Eddie stops his train of thought, feels it screech to a halt as he accidentally squeeze’s Richie’s arm through the blanket. He feels him shift, settling with his cheek against the back of Eddie’s neck. His stubble is rough, a slight drag against his skin with every breath. Eddie shivers a little, squirming a little as he starts to think about Richie’s cheek rubbing against  _ other _ places, more sensitive areas of skin.

He turns back to his phone. He clicks the last link.

Poncho. Age: 4-5. Breed: Ferret. The long, lanky weasel-thing stares back at him, it’s beady black eyes bright against it’s light grey coat. Its nails curl around someone’s finger as it holds on to their hand. Eddie shakes his head and sighs loudly.

“We’re  _ not  _ getting a ferret,” he mutters into the quiet room.

Richie starts to chuckle lightly, soft puffs of air fanning across Eddie’s skin, the mattress shaking lightly beneath them.

“I was wondering when you’d say something,” Richie mumbles, voice scratchy with sleep, words drawn out like he hasn’t quite woken up yet. His eyes probably aren’t even open, if Eddie had to take a guess.

“We’re not getting him,” Eddie replies, already clicking on the tab labeled ‘cats for adoption.’

“But his name is Poncho, Eds,” Richie says, his hand moving up from Eddie’s stomach to the little dip between his pecs.

“So?”

“We could name him Poncho Villa,” Richie mumbles, very much sounding like he’s falling asleep again.

“You’re so weird.”

“Aw,” Richie says, shoving his face between Eddie’s shoulder blades again, muffling his voice. “Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie says, starting to roll onto his back.

He drapes his arm around Richie’s shoulder as he resettles, his face pressed to Eddie’s chest. His hand, still tucked under Eddie’s shirt, starts to wander, lazy in its exploration. Richie traces his ribs until Eddie swats at his hand, followed by a sharp  _ hey. _

“See any you like?” Richie says, sliding his leg between Eddie’s again, hooking an ankle under his calf.

“Maybe.” Eddie scrolls through the cat section. “Bonnie’s cute. I’m just worried about getting an older dog, I guess.”

Pancake. A very large, very long-haired cat with a smushed-up nose. Meatloaf. Another long-haired cat, this time black with a white belly. Bartholomew. Eddie makes a little scoffing noise and scrolls by without even reading the information.

“What?” Richie says, his hand starting to wander lower, teasing at the waistband of Eddie’s boxer briefs.

“Who names a cat Bartholomew. It’s probably an attempt at a stupid pun.”

“You’re allowed to rename them, you know,” Richie laughs. “We could call him… Mister Business.”

“We’re not naming our pet after that terrible TV show.”

“You love that show.”

Eddie makes a pitched sound in his throat, tapering off without saying anything. Richie laughs again and drags his hand back up Eddie’s stomach, pushing the shirt up until it’s bunched up under his armpits. Richie brushes the pad of his thumb over a nipple until it hardens under his touch. Eddie tries not to squirm, even as heat starts to pool low in his belly. His swallows hard and keeps looking at all the very adoptable, very cute cats.

Banana Bread. Fernando. Sonny. Whiskers. Kyle.

“People really don’t know how to name their pets,” Eddie mutters, his breathing starting to pick up even as he studiously ignores Richie’s antics. Then Richie slides his thigh up Eddie’s until he brushes over the front of his briefs, and Eddie can’t help but try to chase the friction.

Richie laughs, a single exhalation against Eddie’s now-bare chest, strained at the edges as he starts to restlessly rub himself against Eddie’s right thigh.

“We can go look later,” Richie says, hand sliding back down. He dips two of his fingers underneath Eddie’s waistband and rubs at the soft hair on his lower stomach with his thumb until Eddie’s heart is thumping in his chest.

“The storm’s going to be here sooner than they thought,” Eddie whispers harshly, phone screen long since timed-out in front of his face.

“I don’t need that much time,” Richie says, sliding down further, kissing Eddie’s chest and licking at his nipple.

Eddie gasps and finally sets the phone down, dropping it somewhere next to him before squeezing the edge of the mattress. Richie slips his fingers further into his underwear before withdrawing them quickly, making Eddie groan.

“Richie–” he gasps, burying his hand in Richie’s hair.

Richie licks at his nipple again, before gently scraping his stubbly chin across the sensitive skin.

“Yes?” He asks, confident in his teasing.

He palms Eddie through his underwear, squeezing his erection with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.

“Please–” Eddie shivers, his body trembling under Richie’s touch. He can feel how hard Richie is, hot against the side of his leg.

“You cold, baby?” Richie says, smirking as he lifts his head to look him in the eye. “I can warm you up.”

Eddie snorts and tilts his hips up, pressing himself harder against the warm pressure of Richie’s palm. He shivers again when Richie’s thumb rubs down the full length of him before tracing the sensitive head through his underwear.

“We’re still not getting the fucking ferret,” Eddie gasps, desperately pushing into Richie’s hand.

Richie laughs, full-bodied and full of simple joy, and finally dips his hand under Eddie’s waistband to take him in his hand. Richie lifts his head again and leans up to kiss him, smiling against his lips until Eddie shoves his tongue in his mouth and draws out a moan.

~

“We should have just waited until next weekend,” Eddie says as Richie opens the door to the animal shelter for them.

The snow is already sticking to the sidewalks, gathering on the windshields of the cars parked out front. Eddie pushes the snow off his shoulders and takes off his beanie, slapping it against his thigh with a frown. He shoves the hat in his coat pocket and smiles at the receptionist.

“Hi!” She says, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Did you two have an appointment, or are you just having a look around?”

“Just takin’ a peek,” Richie says, untucking his scarf. “The dogs are that way?”

She nods and gestures towards the double doors, smiling at them as Richie starts to push at Eddie’s shoulders until he starts to walk.

“Relax,” Richie says, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s sleeve. “We don’t have to decide anything today. We can just look. No pressure, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie mumbles, shoulders relaxing a little as he warms up. It smells like dog in here, but it’s not– it’s not bad. It’s not a bad thing.

They walk up to a little glass room with a basset hound stretched out on a big fluffy bad, stuffed duck lying at his feet. His big ears twitch as he dreams. They keep going, door to door, past the snoozing dogs until they kept to what must be Roxie, the Australian Shepherd mix. She’s chewing happily on a rubber ball, which is squeaking incessantly. Richie reaches out to push open the door and he must see the look on Eddie’s face, because he stops with his hand on the handle. Roxie sits up and looks up at them excitedly, fluffy tail sweeping the floor.

“Hey, we’re just saying hi,” Richie says, holding out his hand, palm up. “Come on, she probably hasn’t had a visitor all day with this storm.”

“Okay,” Eddie says after looking down at Roxie’s eager face. He takes Richie’s hand and follows him inside the room.

She runs up to them, her excitement hardly contained as her compact body wriggles, but she doesn’t jump up. She sniffs politely at their legs and their shoes and Richie’s outstretched hand, licking at his skin happily, a happy little whine escaping her throat.

“She’s cute,” Eddie says, still a little uncertain, but he can feel the smile on his face. He pets Roxie’s soft fur and kneels down, laughing at she sniffs at his chin and tickles his throat with her whiskers.

“Very,” Richie says. “You could take her to the park. Your new little jogging buddy.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling as Roxie sits very neatly and holds up a paw for him. He takes it in his hand and rubs the top of her foot with his thumb. “But what if she hates being at home all day? While you’re gone.”

Eddie doesn’t like to talk about this. Richie’s new movie starts in three weeks, and he’ll be gone for  _ four  _ months this time, not to mention he’ll be in Europe for one of those months.

“She’s not a puppy,” Richie says, resting his hand on the top of Eddie’s head, gently moving his hair. “I’m sure she’d be fine. Plus, it’d help get you out of the house while I’m out of town.”

“What if I don’t want to get out of the house,” Eddie grumbles, mostly to himself.

“Come on, let’s keep looking.”

They say goodbye to Roxie and walk around the corner to find Bonnie, the older dog with the grey on her chin. She’s curled up in the little dog house with her front paws stretched outside the door. She watches them come inside the room and stands up into a deep stretch before walking up to them.

“Hey there, old gal,” Richie says, kneeling down and sitting back on his ankles to rub at her neck with both hands.

Eddie reaches down to pet her, smiling as she yawns widely and then watches them while panting lightly. Her skinny tail thumps against the tile.

“I don’t think I could run with her,” he says, laughing a little under his breath.

“Probably not.” Richie leans forward to kiss her snout. “But I’m sure she likes to have fun either way.”

Eddie thinks about the greying of her chin, the little flecks of white dotting her back. But then he looks at her bright, clear eyes and stops worrying about special diets and too many visits to the vet. He pets Bonnie again, touches her soft, pointed ear.

“Maybe.”

Richie stands up and squeezes his hand. “Let’s go visit the cats, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, threading their fingers together. “Okay.”

~

The cats are down a different hallway. They pass a big room with a giant, elaborate cat tower in the center, with little hammocks nailed to the closest wall. It’s the kitten room. Eddie shakes his head no, giving Richie a pointed look, but Richie just laughs and pulls him inside.

“They’re babies, Eds,” Richie says. “I just want to play with them.”

Unfortunately, that means Richie wants to play with them for ten minutes straight. Eddie watches from a chair in the corner, a little calico kitten snoozing on his lap and kneading at his coat with its sharp little claws. Richie’s sitting on the floor, flicking a little wand with some feathers at the end of the string back and forth for a trio of older kittens. The little orange tabby attaches itself to Richie’s knee, sinking its claws into his jeans, and leaps away when he screeches a little.

“No!” Richie calls out, hissing a little through his teeth as he rubs his knee. “Come back! You can scratch me, I don’t care.”

“Kinky,” Eddie mutters, cradling the sleeping calico and rubbing at its round belly.

Richie throws a little crinkly ball at him.

“You’re the one who always asks for it har–”

“ _ Richie _ !” Eddie leans forward in his chair, holding the kitten closer. “Hush.”

Richie leans back on his hands and laughs. “They’re kittens, Eddie, not children. What do you think they’re gonna do, tell on us?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and stands up, setting the kitten down on one of the fluffy beds in the tree. Bright green eyes blink up at him sleepily before the kitten shoves its nose into the fleece and promptly falls back asleep. He pulls Richie up off the floor and out of the room.

They pass a couple of rooms, pairs of cats staring at them through the glass as they walk. Richie lingers by the room with two long-haired cats curled up next to each other on a shelf.

“Oh, Eddie,” he says, palm splayed out on the window. “That cat could  _ totally _ be Mister Business.”

“Get your hands off the window,” Eddie tsks him, rubbing at the fingerprints with the end of his sleeve. “I really don’t want a long-haired cat, Richie. They get so matted.”

“Not if you brush them.”

Eddie thinks that’s probably not how that works, but he doesn’t say anything, just pulls Richie along. He stops at the next room over, eyes drawn towards the grey cat licking its paws and then swiping them over its cheeks. Eddie glances at the print-out taped to the glass. Kimchi.

“Oh, she’s pretty,” Richie says. “Wanna go inside?”

Eddie nods, pushing the door open himself.

Kimchi looks up, sniffing at the air curiously as he walks up to her. Eddie holds his hand out to her, smiling when she rubs her cheek against his fingers and starts to purr immediately.

“Think she likes you, babe,” he hears behind him.

Eddie sits in the chair next to her shelf and can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when she immediately hops down onto his lap, butting her head against his chest as she leans against him heavily.

“She’s nice,” he says, laughing when she licks his chin.

“You wouldn’t have to run with her,” Richie says, leaning against Eddie’s side and gently petting the cat’s head. “Well, I suppose you could. Did I send you that video of the cat on the boat–”

“Yes, you did, and no, we’re not taking a cat on a boat, Richie.” Eddie sighs. “We don’t even  _ have  _ a boat.”

“Ben does.”

“We’re not taking a cat on Ben’s boat.”

“What your dad doesn’t know, won’t kill him,” Richie stage whispers to Kimchi. She  _ mrows _ softly, blinking up at him with her bright blue eyes.

Eddie flushes, stroking Kimchi’s back as she continues to lean her warm body against his chest.

“I don’t know if I like the name Kimchi.”

“She can be Kim for short,” Richie shrugs, then a rueful grin breaks across his face. “Or we could call her Chi.”

He draws it out,  _ cheeee _ , giggling a little at the end like he’s fourteen and laughing at his own bad joke again. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I already hate that nickname on you, Richie,” he says, gently scooping Kimchi up in his arms until she’s cradled and staring up at him with droopy blue eyes, a bit of drool gathering on her lip as she purrs heavily. “I’m sure as hell not going to tolerate it for our cat.”

“Aw,” Richie leans down to kiss his forehead with a loud smack. “You called her our cat.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie pauses, looking down at the practically-liquid cat in his arms. “She seems like a good cat.”

“Let me go find the front desk lady,” Richie says, rubbing his palm up and down Eddie’s spine quickly before he disappears through the door and down the hallway.

Eddie looks down at Kimchi with a grin.

“Hey, Miss K,” he says to her. “You want to come home with us?”

~

The shelter sends them on their way with a little bag full of Kimchi’s paperwork, a plastic feeding dish with the shelter’s logo emblazoned on the side, and a couple toys from her room that her previous owner sent with her. Eddie holds onto her temporary cardboard carrier nervously, trying not to jostle her as Richie finishes paying her adoption fee. The snow is gathering on the sidewalks quickly, the sky almost pure white as the storm obscures the high-rise buildings around them.

Richie drives them home carefully, more adept at driving in the snow without gripping the steering wheel until he’s white knuckled, unlike Eddie. He takes the corners carefully and pumps the brakes like it’s just another winter in Maine, like it hasn’t been twenty years since he drove them around town for hot chocolate in his dad’s old Caddy.

Kimchi doesn’t make a peep until they’re parked outside the front doors to their building, peering up at Eddie through the holes in the box as she meows softly, a quiet wondering sound.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?” Eddie asks, his hand hesitating on the door handle.

“She needs food, Eds,” Richie says, looking over at him with a smile. “The pet store’s just down the road. I’ll be back in twenty. You should take her upstairs and let her get settled.”

Eddie squeezes Richie’s hand before stepping out of the car, shrugging his shoulders against the blowing snow. He wishes he had a blanket to cover the top of the box.

“Sorry, girl,” he says as he rushes towards the front door. The rug inside the door is a useless, sopping wet mess, but he wipes his shoes out of habit anyways. The elevator’s already on the ground floor and opens as soon as he presses the button.

He sets her box down on the floor while he unlocks the door to their apartment, unzipping his coat and quickly hanging it on the rack before he leans down to pop open the carrier.

“Do you want to come out?” Eddie asks her, gently stroking her head with the back of his fingers. “It’s warm and dry, I promise.”

Kimchi leaps out of the box, startling a little as the cardboard scrapes a little on the tile. She rubs against his wet pants as she looks curiously around the apartment before wandering down the hall. Her ears are attentive, tail high in the air. Eddie thinks she fits perfectly.

He leads the way towards the couch in the living room, leaning back against the cushions as she slowly inspects every corner, sniffing at the coffee table and the TV stand and the window curtains that are drawn against the cold. She works her way between the gap of the curtains, leaping onto the windowsill until all Eddie can see is her tail contentedly swishing back and forth.

He takes out his phone and types out  _ don’t forget to buy grain-free food, _ flushing a little when Richie immediately replies with  _ yes, dear. _

~

Kimchi is settled on Eddie’s lap when Richie comes home, purring up a storm again. She hardly looks up when the door opens, happy to shove her face further into the bend of Eddie’s elbow. There’s a little wet spot on his shirt, but Eddie finds that he doesn’t mind, so he continues to softly rub her belly.

Richie drops the bags off on the kitchen island and quickly takes out his phone to take five different pictures from different angles. Eddie rolls his eyes but he can’t stop smiling either.

“Thank you,” Eddie finds himself saying, leaning his head back against the couch until he’s staring up at Richie. “You’re right. This was a good idea.”

“You’re welcome,” Richie says, kissing him firmly and sighing softly against Eddie’s cheek. “I couldn’t stand the thought of my man alone while I’m gone.”

Eddie blushes and draws Richie in again, tangling his fingers in the soft hair at the back of his neck.

“I love her,” he says against Richie’s lips.

“I love her, too,” Richie says back with a knowing smile.


End file.
